


the rain song

by nezstorm



Series: chasing tails [21]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Pre-Slash, Werefox Stiles, Young Peter Hale, kid stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:03:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/nezstorm
Summary: Peter goes off to college. Stiles isn't okay with another person leaving him.





	1. Chapter 1

When Peter thought about going to college he knew it would involve an adjustment period, for him and his pack. He’d be, possibly, hundreds of miles away from them all, learning to live on his own while managing classes and schoolwork. He’d be free from his sister’s nagging and his nieces and nephew running underfoot.

Now it also means being apart from his little fox for long weeks.

He explained it to Stiles, his need to go to a school that would be a lot further away than it was now. Far enough that he wouldn’t be able to return home every day, but every other weekend instead.

Peter knew it would be difficult for them both because they’re really dependant on each other, but they’d make it work. And Stiles was sad, clung to Peter like he wanted to permanently attach them at the hip, didn’t let Peter out of his sight for more than half an hour at a time. But as the last week before Peter would be moving drew near, the fox seemed to calm down some, much to everyone’s relief.

Peter should have known better than that.

\--

Stiles’ room is a mess, more so than usual, toys strewn around and clothes all over. And in the middle of it, the little fox seems busy stuffing as much as he can in his already overflowing backpack.

“Stiles,” Peter asks even though he has an inkling as of what is happening, “what are you doing?”

Peter’s own bags are already stacked in the trunk of his car, waiting for him to say his goodbyes and hit the road.

“Packing,” Stiles answers, but he’s stubbornly not looking up at Peter.

“Stiles.”

“I got all my books and clothes, and I can take Wolfie and my pillow in hand.”

“Stiles, please,” Peter tries again, and edge of desperation in his voice. He really hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

“But I can also just be a fox? So I won’t need much. I’ll just sleep under your bed or in a drawer?” the kit wonders aloud, finally glancing up at Peter, his eyes huge and pleading,  “I’ll fit in your bag. I can keep silent for a while and I’ll change back for the weekends we’ll spend here. I have it all planned out. I promise I won’t bother you at all.”

“ _ Frog. _ ”

“I won’t be a bother,” Stiles says again, insistent, as he looks down at his hands.

Peter kneels on the floor next to him and catches Stiles’ palms in his. Squeezes them once in what he hopes is comfort.

“Red, please look at me,” he waits until Stiles is facing him again before he continues, “That’s not why I’m not taking you with me. I’m going to school.”

“I can go to school there, too.”

“That’s not how this works. Stiles, we talked about this. You said you were okay with it.”

Stiles stands up and tugs their hands apart.

“If you go I have to go, too,” he stomps his foot to emphasize his words.

Peter sighs.

“I can’t take you with me. You’ll stay with Talia and Mark, Derek and Cora. You don’t want to leave them, do you? Or Scott, Lydia and your other friends?”

He hedges, trying to appeal to the boy, but he fails judging by the wobbling lower lip and the moisture gathering in Stiles’ eyes.

“But you’re leaving me.”

“I’m not _leaving_ _you_ , Stiles, I’m going to college. Just like you will when you’re older. I’ll be learning a lot so that I can get a good job in the future and so that I’m able to take good care of you. But that means that I’ll only be home some weekends and when I get breaks from school. It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you anymore or that I won’t miss you, Frog, because I do and I will.”

“Then take me with you,” Stiles pleads.

“No,” Peter tells him, firmly. He’s not sure how to get through to the fox anymore, “I’ve explained it already, you have to stay here.”

“I don’t want to stay here. I want to go with you!”

Peter rubs his forehead, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

“You can’t.”

“Take me with you! Please! Why won’t you take me with you? I can be still and silent! I won’t bother you at all! I’ll be good!”

Stiles is crying now, sniffling wetly, and it’s instinct for Peter to opens his arms for him. Just as much as it if for Stiles to fall right into his embrace and bury his face in Peter’s shoulder.

“That’s not why you can’t go,” Peter explains, again. He’s rocking them from side to side, softly, rubbing calming circles over Stiles’ back, “We’ve been through this already. I promise I’ll visit as often as possible and I’m sure that you can talk Derek into visiting me, too,” he pulls away, enough to look Stiles in the eyes and he smiles at the fox softly, “We’ll see each other a lot and we’ll talk on the phone, you won’t even notice that I’m away.”

“But I don’t want you to be away,” Stiles says in a small voice, rubbing one eyes with his fist, breath hitching as he sobs.

“Stiles, we’ll talking in circles. I’ve told you—“

“That I can’t go, but you have to. Fine. Go. GO!” Stiles yells and pushes Peter away, startling him so hard that Peter loses his balance and ends up on the floor. He stares at Stiles in shock, the boy’s face red as fat tears roll down his cheeks, fists clenched at his sides as he looks angrily at Peter. He reeks of despair and rage, “Everyone always leaves.”

“That is not what’s happening here,” Peter protests. He gets to his feet and approaches Stiles, or at least tries to. But Stiles keeps backing away, out of his reach.

The fox is shaking even as he wipes at his nose with the sleeve of his sleeve, the move rough. As angry as he seems to be.

Peter takes a few steps towards him again, hoping that he’ll calm down a bit with proximity and touch, but Stiles keeps evading him, right until he stops Peter in his tracks with three simple words.

“I hate you.”

He then shifts and rushes out of the room, and—surely – out the front door.

“He’ll come around,” Talia promises an hour later, as they’re saying their goodbyes. Stiles still isn’t back, but Derek went after him and texted that he’s fine.

Peter nods, “I know,” but his ears are still ringing with Stiles’ words and the way his heart didn’t stutter in that moment at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter doesn’t hear from Stiles for two weeks. They’re the longest fourteen days in Peter’s life, he thinks, made worse because he’s four hours away from home.

It doesn’t matter that he’s renting an apartment just off campus, has a whole place to himself without roommates to encroach on his space. That it’s nicely furnished and just spacious enough that he doesn’t feel trapped in it. It feels barren, too quiet and empty. Lacking of a certain scent no matter the plush frog pillow that Stiles often slept on.

The one that Stiles somehow slipped into Peter’s baggage, probably already planning to join Peter in the move.

Now it serves as a sad reminder of Stiles being angry and sad, crying as he tells Peter he hates him.

Peter knows that Stiles said it all because he was upset, that while the words were true in that moment it were only so because Stiles loves Peter.  Peter understands that Stiles fears being abandoned more than anything in the world, but he also thought that Stiles was aware that it wasn’t what was happening.

Understanding it all doesn’t mean it hurts any less to be apart. It only serves to make it worse.

He can’t do much about it now, though, can’t just run back home and fix it. There is no easy way to mend it at all: he’d have to go back to college soon anyway and that wouldn’t help them at all.

He still gives Talia or Mark a call every day in hopes of talking with Stiles, but the boy only ever shakes his head and leaves the room.

“He’s like a little grey raincloud,” Talia tells him one evening, “He refuses to talk about you and I’ve lost count of how many times I found him hidden in your room, crying. We had Scott sleep over last weekend, but it didn’t help much in distracting him.

“He needs time to adjust and so do you,” she advises, “He has to learn to trust that you won’t abandon him even if you’re not there every second of the day.”

She’s right, of course she is.

“We should have prepared him for this better.”

She’s right on that one, too.

 

\--

  
  


Derek updates him on how Stiles is doing almost every day. His nephew sends him gruff, short texts that mostly serve to drive home the extent of the damage done. 

 

_ he barely spoke today _

 

_ skipped dinner again _

 

_ got angry at me when i didn’t do the voices right, then got angry at himself for yelling at me _

 

_ he let laur play dress up with him and Wolfie _

 

_ he’s better, but not okay _

 

It’s progress, albeit slow, but it’ll make it easier for when Peter goes home this weekend and then has to leave again. For all the visits home in the future.

 

Maybe Stiles still won’t want to talk to Peter, that wouldn’t really be a surprise, the boy can be awfully stubborn and set in his ways-- but just being in the same town, same  _ house _ should help ease them both a bit.

 

Peter makes the best of it and works on adjusting to his new territory, to new places and people, and a whole new way of getting through. There’s the obvious things that occupy him like classes and studying, meeting valuable people, making friends where it’ll pay off or impressing his professors. 

 

And then there’s cooking, doing laundry, grocery shopping, keeping his apartment habitable. He’s never been a slob and he had his share of chores back home, but he needs to set new routines and that takes getting used to as well.

 

The silence bothers him the most and he’s already counting the hours until his return to Beacon Hills.

 

\--

  
  


It’s Wednesday and has a few hours free in between classes. It’s a long enough break that he decides to go back to the apartment to eat something and leave some of the books he’s carrying in his bag that he won’t be needing today anymore.

 

He’s just reached the landing on his floor when the smell hits him: sweet and familiar, like cocoa on a cold evening. There’s a sour note to it that he recognizes as well and it makes him slow down as he walks towards his apartment door.

 

He shoots off a quick text to Derek, barely looking at the screen to check that he sends it right, and looks at the furry bundle curled on his doorstep, not unlike the one he once found in his schoolbag years ago.

 

His heart thunders in his chest.

 

He doesn't rush to greet Stiles because he's not quite sure what to expect, but Stiles just-- shifts then and there, unmindful that one of Peter's neighbors could see him, and throws himself at Peter.

 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it!” he cries into Peter’s shirt, hands clutching at the werewolf like he expects him to slip away. 

 

Peter left with the task of dragging them both inside, picks him up, locks the door behind them, and then just drops to the floor - Stiles, his messenger bag and all - as all the tension of the last few weeks leaves him at once.

 

He clutches Stiles to his chest and buries his face in his shoulder as he inhales. He ignores the phone buzzing in his pant pocket, the question of how Stiles got there or the fact he  _ ran from home _ to get to Peter in the first place.

 

Instead, he just holds his little fox close for the longest moment telling him over and over that it's okay and that he missed him just as much.

 

\--

 

Once they’ve migrated from the floor to the couch Peter calls Talia and tells her that Stiles is all right. There’s probably a decade of being grounded for the stunt he pulled awaiting Stiles when Peter gets him home, but for now everyone is just content knowing that he’s safe and sound.

 

“How did you get here, little Frog?” Peter asks over sandwiches. Apparently, traveling in secret makes you very hungry, as Stiles’ growling stomach pointed out.

 

“I asked Derek for your address,” Stiles replies between bites, “Told him I wanted to write you a letter. I did! But then I didn’t know what to say and…” he trails off, shrugs.

 

Peter leans over the table to kiss away the furrow of his brows. 

 

“You know you can’t do this again, don’t you, Red? Ever if we’re fighting, you can’t just go off looking for me without letting anyone know. It’s irresponsible,” Peter chastises. 

 

Stiles swallows the last of his sandwich and just looks at his empty plate, eyes wet and fingers worrying at the tablecloth. The picture of misery.

 

Peter pushes his chair closer and takes Stiles’ hands in his.

 

“I  _ am _ very happy to see you, to have you here with me. But Talia has probably gone all gray in worry.”

 

Stiles sniffles wetly, tugs one of his hands free to wipe his face with his sleeve. Peter just opens his arms and lets the boy clamber into his lap.

 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles mumbles, “I didn’t mean to run away. I just really missed you and the last thing I told you was that I hated you-- which wasn’t true! I don’t!-- And I kept thinking that you won’t come home if you think that I don’t love you anymore and I had to fix it.”

 

“Oh Stiles,” he sighs, fond and absolutely helpless when it comes to this boy. 

 

They’ll have to have another serious talk and Peter will try to do better this time. He’ll explain that they have to spend this time apart, because they’ll never be able to be around each other 24/7 like they have been, and knowing that Stiles is miserable at home makes Peter sad, so could Stiles try to be happy for him?

 

“But that doesn’t mean you should hide from me when you’re sad,” he clarifies, looking seriously into Stiles bright eyes, “I want to know when you aren’t happy, too, because I cares and it’s important. Just-- we both have to at least try to be happy, or tolerant of the situation and look for the good things instead of just the bad, Red. You have other people in Beacon Hills  who care about you and don’t want you to be sad. And, honestly, I can't bring you with me to all of my classes. You have to go back to school as well."

 

“But.. but..." Stiles trails off, he looks down at the fingers he’s been wringing nervously as he listened to Peter. He looks so small and vulnerable, so reminiscent of the boy Peter found in the woods almost three years ago. "Peter,” Stiles says, tilts his head up so that their eyes meet, “what if I can't?"

 

"You can, Red,” Peter replies with as much certainty as he can channel, “I’m  coming home this weekend. And the weekend after that you can come up here with Derek. We’ll Skype or facetime, you can send me things now that you know my address and I can send you things back. We can do this,” he smiles down at Stiles in encouragement, “Okay?”

 

Stiles takes a moment to mull this over, sniffling softly but not crying anymore. Finally, he scoots closer to Peter and leans against him, nuzzling against Peter’s arm.

 

“I’ll do my best,” he promises.

 

They both will.

  
  



End file.
